


OMG Aging Magic

by ItstheKiks



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Aging, Alternate Universe - Magic, Libraries, M/M, Magic, Magic Rituals, Not Beta Read, Swearing, We Die Like Men, magic book, magic tome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItstheKiks/pseuds/ItstheKiks
Summary: Jack Zimmerman finds himself in a different sort of trouble then he was expecting. An unusual library book caused him to suddenly be his father's age. Now he needs to figure out how to revert to his actual age so he can graduate.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	OMG Aging Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in over a decade. I asked some friends for help betaing but in the end none of them were able to help. With the end of the comic soon I thought I'd like to put it on AO3 for others to read.

Jack sighed as he looked down the hall. He shifted his backpack from his aching shoulder. He twisted his neck to crack it but the pop had a new sickening wet sound and now it hurt more.

“Urgh” he gurgled involuntarily. He couldn’t keep up with the new changes to his body. It reminded him of adolescent, but without the inexplicable sexual arousal. He talked himself up, ‘all you have to do is walk down the hall and sit in your normal chair in class and act like normal’ he coughed to himself ‘normal, you know the way you _never_ act, and aren’t even a little bit.” He sighed for the billionth time and shifted _again_. He shook his head and started creakily down the hallway, ‘no time like the present to fuck up his life, I mean that _was_ his motto, right?’ He chuckled darkly as he hit the classroom door and strode straight to his chair and dropped into it with the weight of his new predicament.

Bittle straightened in the chair next to his, ‘Aw shit, _Bittle,’_ and turned slightly probably to chirp him about almost being late to their favorite class. Bittle’s favorite because he got to make bake goods and call it homework and Jack’s favorite because- Jack shied away from that thought but not before Bittle’s smile floated across his mind like a butterfly whose wings blew hurricanes into existence.

‘Stupid’ thought Jack at himself, as Bittle turned with his 100-watt smile right into the Twilight Zone that was Jack’s current life. Bittle started and then stared but then he twisted back to the professor when she cleared her throat to start the class.

Throughout class Bittle kept sneaking glances at Jack. Something was happening behind his eyes because the looks didn’t stop all class. ‘Great, now he’ll follow me out of class,’ Jack thought.

Finally, the professor looked at the class and gave her dismissal “Ok, you guys don’t forget about the final project in May or the test next week. Like my bartender says: You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.” Everyone got up with varying degrees of energy and left the room faster that should be allowed by physics. Jack wondered if he should have taken physics this term it would have helped more right now. Bittle turned to Jack looking more serious than he ever had.

Jack thought fast and backed away, “Thanks, for- today, uh, see you,” he dashed as fast as his knees would allow out the door and down the corridor. He sighed in relief as he made it past the bushes at the end of the covered walk and shifted his back pack again as he headed towards the library.

He didn’t remember why he had thought that hiding in the tower was a good idea for his study night. In the end, he just hung around in the stacks looking at books for a final paper that was still over two months away. That was when he found what he had been referring to as The Tome.

Jack shook the memory away as he slowly fought his way up the hill to the library. He hated how his body now ached with every small exertion that he asked of it. He quietly opened the side door he had propped open on his way to class. He slunk into one of the film viewing rooms to wait in relative privacy and quiet for the library to close. He sneezed as he poked around in the corner of the room and found a few musty blankets to for later. He sighed again. Probably left by some film students.

Jack sank to the icy cement floor feeling the chill in his bones almost immediately. He wondered when his body would have naturally become so sensitive to the cold his 40s? 50s? He hated what the book had done to him, stolen so many chances, more than he had left to give. The book had aged him past recognition, well, not completely, he looked like his dad now. Literally, he looked like his 60-year-old father. Jack wondered if he could turn back into himself or would his life turn into him impersonating “Bad” Bob Zimmerman. Jack shivered as he sat on the floor knowing that the cold would make his body ache and his muscles protest. Jack shifted and tried to do some gentle stretches but his body pinged with sharp pains telling him that what should be an easy pull was overdoing it in his body now. Jack’s backpack pinged and Jack decided to check his messages to instead of using physical exertion to distract himself.

With the lights off in the room, just the eerie glow of the screen of his phone lit his corner. Bitty was in the group text trying to get someone to believe that “Bad” Bob had dropped into their class this afternoon. Jack coughed in amusement and thought about the smile Bittle gave him earlier and felt warmer. So far it looked like Lardo was withholding judgement pending deets, Shitty was throwing out even more radical theories, Ransom had a chart of Jack’s last known movements, and Holster was suggesting having the entire team run the campus paths until someone bumped into the impostor. Holster was not being clear about whether the impostor was impersonating Jack or his dad, “Bad” Bob, but Holster was strangely violent in text.

Jack wondered if his parents had been notified he was missing. It had only been three days since the transformation. Jack continued to make meals at the dining hall but was mostly grabbing sandwich fixings and fruit not sitting down for long meals. He hadn’t been back to the Haus mostly because he was worried how the team would react but he was keeping up with class for the most part by sitting in the back of the rooms, being last in, and first out of each classroom. He had been lucky that the first day was a Sunday so he also hadn’t had to leave the library often. Since he physically couldn’t play hockey as a septuagenarian he used the extra time to try to find a counter to the whatever it was that skipped him forward 30 years.

The ‘Bing’ of the loudspeaker made him jump. The librarian on counter duty made the announcement about the library closing in 20 minutes. Jack tried to quiet his racing pulse. He knew that next, the librarians would walk through to check no one was doing what Jack was doing, camping all night for a paper or project. They would confirm no one was in the building before shutting down, but as Jack had learned most of the student workers didn’t try very hard to get everyone out. As long as they set the alarm before they left the workers assumed that everything was fine. Only the doors were alarmed though, not the stacks so if you were quiet and got left inside your best bet was to stay until morning, hence the blankets from the film students left behind after a long night of overloading on required watching.

Jack texted his mom quickly to tell her that his paper was going well and he would call her this weekend. He made sure to ask her about the rumors of a haunted room in the old tower from when she was at Samwell. Jack figured that if he couldn’t get back to normal after a week than he would have to start telling people about what was going on and his mom might know something about the tower.

The loudspeaker binged again a bored voice announcing 10 minutes to closing. Jack turned off his phone knowing that the students would walk past here soon having done the top floors first. The workers usually went quicker downstairs since generally fewer students wanted to hang out in the rumored haunted basement. He listened for the tapping of the worker’s shoes on the tile in the hallway, which distracted him for a while thinking about the doppler effect and what that meant for soldiers in WWI trenches and he wondered if he could add that to his thesis. He sighed wondering if he could even turn in his thesis at this point if he was decades older than he was supposed to be. Finally, the tapping of shoes faded away down the hall and the five-minute warning beeped out. He counted in his head and waited for an extra few minutes until he was sure everyone was gone.

He cautiously got up from the floor, taking his time now that his whole body protested sitting on the floor. He grabbed the blankets and his backpack and walked slowly and painfully towards the stairs. As he walked his muscles warmed up and he was able to feel a little better but he was sure that floors were not something he should be sitting on at his physical age, at least. He wondered why he hadn’t been more aware of what his body was telling him about his injuries while on the floor. Instead he only felt the pressure of the anxiety that always pushed him.

Jack promised himself that he was going to attend all of the next kegger, wrestle more with Shitty, and generally roughhouse more with the team when he got his body back. His body, not this thing that he was dragging around in. He climbed the stairs slowly trying to be quiet and not hurt his knees more than they already hurt. He also felt the press of the mild cardio in his lungs and chest as he climbed up to the fifth floor. He sighed, he felt that sighing was pretty much the only thing he was doing lately, since he hadn’t made any direction towards getting back into his body.

Jack shuffled his feet as he made his way towards the reading room. The octagonal room was the third floor above the ground, the room had seven windows and a five-point star inlay in the wooden floor. The plush couches had hidden the star but Jack had pushed them around the room and figured out that that was probably part of why the spell worked. Jack still wondered if spell was the right word or if it was a curse or a time warp or a science experiment gone wrong or if he had jumped through a rip in reality. Whatever it was was wrapped up in the book he had found, or that had found him. At this point the what was not as important as the why and how, if he was going to resolve the issue.

He settled into the settee that he felt most comfortable in, made it up as his bed and started reading the book again. So far most of it was inexplicable full of red lions and horned serpents and male and female principles. The stupid thing always gave him a headache and after reading it twice all the way through he gave up trying full time to fix his issue and had gone back to classes. Jack knew that his time was running out if he was going to be able to change back to himself.

Jack wondered if he went to Samwell’s non-traditional religious club if anyone there could help him. ‘Fuck, do I even know any practicing Pagans? This shit doesn’t even fucking look like that Pagan practices book Shitty had. I wonder if Shitty could identify this as a type of spell. Fuck I bet Shitty would know how to fix this.’ Jack shifted on the couch and sighed as he relaxed into sleep. Jack knew he would wake up a few times in the night stiff and cold, body aching but this was the best he could do until he could figure out a way into the Haus and sleep in a real bed. Jack sighed. ‘Too bad I couldn’t take sighing as my foreign language.’

The sunlight bouncing off the windows woke Jack with a pounding headache. Jack wondered if being a morning person was something that he would have to give up when he reached old age. Jack thought about his dad and wondered how much of his ‘Dad Breakfasts’ were just his dad not being able to sleep later than 6 am. Jack couldn’t wait to be a dad and hold his kids and teach them to ice skate. He would chirp his husband all the time about his accent and snuggle him while he baked. Jack knew he had a dopey grin on his face. Warm croissants with homemade butter and jam and butterfly kisses. Jack sighed into the sun lit dream of Bittle and him sitting on the porch in rockers. He realized that his eyes were watering as he thought about growing old with Bittle.

Which would never happen now that he had grown old suddenly through this spell, or curse, or whatever this is. Jack laid back into his settee and wept harder than he had since he got out of rehab. He had never thought he would ever lose everything this way.

\---

Thursday Jack managed to slink into class even later than Tuesday avoiding Bittle’s questions if not his gaze. Jack tried to slump in his chair and take very copious notes to try to ignore Bittle sitting next to him. ‘Just don’t meet his eyes, and he won’t speak to you.’ Jack thought as he watched Bittle checking his phone under the double desk. Jack swallowed nervously when Bittle had almost caught him watching. Jack sighed in relief when the professor gave her final dismissal.

“You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here,” the professor announced.

Jack shifted and quickly grabbed his bag to try to leave. Suddenly, Jack felt a hand on his arm. Jack looked down wonderingly at where Bittle was holding tightly to his arm. Jack didn’t want to hurt either of them but he also was pretty sure that Bittle was holding him tightly enough to bruise and he wanted to leave class before things got more awkward.

“Mr. Ba- Bob, what are you doing here? Where is Jack? Is he sick? I could take notes for him, you don’ t have to come all the way here and sit in class for him.” Bittle looked like he wanted to throw up as he made the offer.

‘Crap,’ Jack thought ‘this wasn’t what was supposed to happen’. Then he realized that this was probably better than admitting he was as stupid as he was. “Ah, th- thanks, Bittle, that means a lot to – uh- Jack. He isn’t feeling the best. Probably mono or-or uh cancer or something. So, uh, if you could let the uh team know that, that would be great.” Jack stammered out. ‘Bittle won’t believe that shit, cancer? Seriously?!?’ Jack immediately chastised himself for sounding like an idiot.

“Sure, uh, Bob, no problem, I’ll let the guys know that he’s sick.” Bittle looked confused but turned his back to Jack.

“Uh, Bittle, could you, uh, I mean I need to go to the Haus to get some things uh, you know for- for Jack.” Bittle turned back and looked at him for long moment before nodding, “Sure, come on, I don’t have class until 2:30 I can help you get somethings to take back.”

Jack felt relieved about the whole thing. ‘At least now my camp in the library will have some of my things in it now. Not just coffee cups half full of cold, weak tea that I found in the library break room and the dubious blanket that was probably from a couple of kids hooking up in the film rooms,’ he thought to himself.

As they walked across Samwell’s campus Jack saw it in suddenly another light. ‘I wonder what Mom sees when she walks on campus? Who she looks to come around the path, whose name she thinks of when she crosses the bridge, and is there a voice she expects to hear in the dining hall. What will it look like to me when I am the age of my body. Will that tree be noticeably bigger, taller, wider? Will that building look older, will the paint be shabbier? What will Bittle look like with a few lines on his face, right around his mouth and eyes where he crinkled them as he smiled all the time.’ Bittle with smile lines made Jack start grinning.

“Uh, Bob, we’re here. Uh, let me unlock the door, okay?” Bittle asked.

Jack jerked out of his thoughts and stared at the back of Bittle’s head as he unlocked the front door. ‘Wait, why is the door locked? No one would break in’ Jack had a sudden panicky thought.

Bittle leaned backwards, “Since Jack was ‘kamikashi’ed we started locking the doors. Uh, that means ‘taken by the gods’. Although Holster said it wouldn’t matter if it was the Fae that took him, a locked door wouldn’t stop them, but Ransom said that vampires have to be invited, and, and- Shitty said he was probably just bugged out some place. But we all agreed to lock the doors and because it’s better to take precaution when dealing with- are you _laughing_ at me?” Jack couldn’t stop grinning at Bitty, Bittle, about the typical Haus nonsense that was thrown around. ‘It’s like I never left.” Jack thought as Bittle pushed open the door.

“Why didn’t you call my- his cell or the – house in Montreal? It would have fixed the problem faster.” Jack said as he went up the steps to the porch making sure to stay on the left side where the banister was broken but the steps weren’t as rotten. ‘Stupid,’ thought Jack, ‘you lost your phone on Wednesday.’ Bittle disappeared into the Haus the dim lighting inside momentarily blinding Jack as he stepped through into the hall into the living room.

BAM

The door slammed behind Jack, he was tackled from behind, and his arm pulled behind him. As his face hit the floor all his bones protested.

“Yeah, we already thought of that you fucking psycho! Bad Bob doesn’t know where Jack is and his cell was found in the library two days ago! Bob isn’t on campus, he’s in Montreal, he texted me during class for an update! WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE IS JACK YOU ASSHOLE!” Bittle was crying as he yelled and his voice broke on the last word. Jack couldn’t get a breath into his lungs to answer just moaned into the floor. The floor had maybe broken his face or his head or his whole damn body really, and why the fuck was Ransom and Holster fucking sitting on him right now.

“B- bi-“ he choked out gasping for air. The boards of the floor creaked towards him as someone’s weight shifted.

“I think the asshole is trying to beg for mercy, boys, are we gonna let him?” a rough voice said.

“Sh- shitty?” Jack panted. “T- the fuck?”

“Okay we have the salt circle around him so he can’t escape you guys can let him up and finish tying the ropes around him,” said a voice slightly higher than the rest.

“Lardo… he is uh, a little older, can we give him a chair or something?” Bittle asked. The floor creaked around the pressure as an entire team of hockey players shifted back and forth clearly doing that stupid thing where they tried to hand gesture at each other with the signals that no one ever agreed on.

Finally, one of the chairs from the kitchen scraped across the floor finally getting set over his head. The pressure from two d-men sitting on him released. Jack gasped and rolled over. ‘Fuck getting old,’ he thought so loudly he was surprised Bittle didn’t hear him.

“I uh, I’m not sure I can get up, er, by myself,” Jack muttered. He almost felt as though his lungs were crushed not just the skin bruised.

Shitty gasped dramatically, “You assholes broke him! Now we’ll never find out where Jack is!”

“Shitty… I think you are overacting, I just need a hand up,” Jack moaned as Ransom and Holster loudly denied the murder or maiming of their prisoner.

“Wait!” Lardo shouted cutting through the rabble, “Did you just call him ’shitty’? How do you know his name?”

“He’s clearly a stalker! He knew my name in class too!” Bitty protested. Jack groaned from the floor. ‘Clearly forgotten again,’ he thought. ‘My arm hurts, my back hurts, my face hurts, my fucking knees hurt, and the floor was neither soft nor kind to my bones. I wonder when everyone lost their minds. Right now I just want someone to help me from the damn floor.’

A hand appeared in front of his face, a hand attached to a hairy arm, and an even hairier face. Shitty’s sick flo seemed to be a little more ridiculous than usual. Jack grabbed the hand and used it to lever himself up while trying to not bruise anything else. Jack sighed and winced as he felt his bones crack like a settling house. ‘Maybe I can take some calcium?’ Jack thought.

“Jack?” Shitty asked quietly distracting him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Jack responded without thought.

“SHIT!” Shitty blurted, “It is you! You glorious bastard! What’s with the silver senior discount get up? And why leave for a week?” Shitty grabbed him into a hug and made him bruise even more. Jack sighed and thought ‘Fuck sake Shitty, it was only 5 days.’

“Well, I stayed away because I am now 60 years old give or take 3 or 4 years. Which was hard to accept when I experienced it. I can’t really explain it properly and, yeah…” Ransom, Holster, and Lardo were all staring at him with varying degrees of surprise and acceptance on their faces. Jack trailed off uncertainly now having answered both of Shitty’s questions.

“He could still be a stalker Shitty! Just because he answers to Jack’s name doesn’t make him Jack!” Bittle protested.

“Huh, okay, well, what would be a good test, then?” Shitty wondered

“What if he could give information no one could know?” Ransom asked.

“Yes!” Holster pumped his fist in the air, “That’s how we tell that this is the real Jack and not a demon!”

“Why was there a question about me being a demon?” Jack beckoned Shitty, “Come here and I’ll whisper my answer to you,” Shitty leaned down to Jack and Jack’s face heated as he realized how close they were. Jack whispered to Shitty for a few seconds and then Shitty yelped and lifted him completely from the floor and swung him around almost hitting the chair and messing up the salt circle in the process.

“Jesus, Shitty, give me a chance to stand, okay?” Jack laughed. Bittle looked skeptical still but Lardo, Holster, and Ransom looked delighted that Jack had proven himself. “Alright, Bittle? Don’t look like you missed our 5 am checking practice,” Jack teased.

Bittle looked outraged and relived that Jack was chirping him. Jack settled into the kitchen chair winded after that little bit of excitement.

Lardo asked, “Shitty, what makes you think this is Jack and not a demon or fae? Since that was your theory as of literally an hour ago.”

“Simple!” Shitty exclaimed as he swept up the salt on the floor. “Jack told me the name of the first person lucky enough to hook up with me in our freshman dorm! An event never duplicated nor spoken of since. Which he managed to attend by accident by walking in on the event. A most dubious honor.”

Jack wheezed with laughter at the memory, “Yeah, fuck his homophobic ass. I still can’t believe that he thought we’d care enough about it to publish it.”

Random and Holster looked up from where they were coiling seemingly a million feet of rope. Some of it seemed to be dyed bright yellow, pink, and neon green. Jack wondered why they needed the rope in those colors and decided it was better to not ask.

“Was it, like a professor, or something?” Holster asked.

“Ah ah ah, it is a secret we will take with us to our graves although the moral of the story has been codified into the Haus rules for all to follow. Lo did our heroes discover the universal truth, Jack?” Shitty looked at Jack expectantly.

“Fuck the LAX Bros,” Jack sighed. Jack knew that this was like waving a red flag in front of Ransom and Holster who would continue to badger him and Shitty for the story although the truth was pretty boring. Except it did involve Shitty so by definition there was a lot of swearing and nudity. Ok, maybe It was only boring for a story involving Shitty which was still fairly exciting for non-Shitty friends.

“Shit, it was like the LAX captain or something, wasn’t it? That guy is seriously creepy,” Ransom was putting the rope into some sort of duffel bag that Jack hadn’t seen before but now was mildly concerned contained implements of destruction.

“Give up, guys, we literally signed non-disclosure agreements,” Jack said.

“What kind of hook-up has an NDA in their wallet?” Lardo asked Shitty.

“The kind that thinks that his reputation is something more important that his partner’s comfort level,” Shitty answered. “Now, Jack, please tell me you can at least walk me through what happened or was there memory loss in addition to the age progression?”

“Well, I heard you swearing and-” Jack started.

“No, you doofus! The fucking age spell!” Shitty interrupted as he turned red.

“Wait, wait, let me get my laptop first!” Ransom yelled as he dashed up the steps to the attic. Jack envied Ransom as he bounded back down the stairs and jumped the last few. Jack twisted around to make sure Shitty was ready for the story and caught Bittle glaring at him from the kitchen door before disappearing further into the kitchen again.

“Eh, so I was working late on this paper in the top of the tower in the library. I went to grab a different reference book from the stacks and found this other book that looked like it might have something useful in it. I took all of the books back to the reading room but when I was reading the book, I didn’t realize that I was sitting in a traditional casting circle inside a pentacle on the night of a new moon,” Jack paused to sigh, “Anyway, I felt sort of odd, like warm and tingly, then really nauseous. I got up to run to the bathroom but my knees felt like they were on fire and I could only _shuffle,_ when I finally got the toilet I, well, my body had betrayed me. My face looked like this, my knees ache all the time, my hands hurt like fire,” Jack looked at Shitty, “Please tell me you know why this happened and how to undo it.”

Shitty reclined on the couch like he fainted and rested his head on Holster’s lap. Holster leaned across the arm of the couch to Ransom in the easy chair and punched him in the shoulder. Lardo flopped down on the bean bag with an extra-large family size bag of Honey BBQ chips. Bitty called from the kitchen,

“Anybody want pie? Or a coke?”

“Nah, brah!” Ransom and Holster chorused. Nobody else responded and Bitty leaned into the room from the hall.

“So, Jack, if you are Jack. Why didn’t you come back to the Haus right away? You always say that we are a team and we support each other on and off the ice, but you didn’t reach out?” Bittle says dubiously.

Jack sighs and wonders if there is a way to just force Bittle to listen and believe. “Well, one time I was talking with Johnson, and he said that some things are a force of nature and others are against nature but magic is neither. Which was not _completely_ out of context but then he said that if I ever had a magical accident that I should wait 24 hours to touch electronics or another person. Then he told me that Shitty was not pansexual but his realization happens outside of the main storyline and wasn’t immediately relevant to events. So, pretty much a typical conversation but, it seemed relevant to this…” Jack trailed off. Shitty was sitting up and nodding again.

“Yeah brah! Johnson always gave good, if esoteric, advice,” Shitty boomed excitedly. “Okay, I need you to swear on your deities that you will not take this from these walls and never again speak of it unless with another who has witnessed it. If any of you want to back out, now is your chance. I can undo this, but you might not like the consequences which I cannot talk about without doing another ritual first and anyone who cannot handle any of that needs to leave.”

“Eh?” Holster stared at Shitty. “What do you mean you can solve this?”

“Well,” Lardo interrupted. “He only _thinks_ he can solve this, because he has some magical training. He might not be able to switch Jack back.”

“He should at least do a spell check to find out if this was a curse or a malevolent spell or a status spell that was corrupted. There are a few other spells that could cause this as a secondary effect but we would have other symptoms that Jack is not experiencing, or at least not reporting,” Bittle said.

Jack craned his neck around to look at Bittle. Bittle blushed all the way down under his tank top. Lardo started playing “Witchy Woman” on her phone. Ransom and Holster crooned the chorus in harmony.

“Seeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooow hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh she fllllllliiiiiiieeeeeessss!” they sang.

Jack sniggered at them and Bittle and Shitty looked affronted.

“Dudes, like, the gendered expectations of magical use are a big problem!” Shitty exclaimed. “Womanhood does not guarantee powers nor does the lack of female organs mean a lesser power. The masculine and feminine aspects of neo-wiccan religious expression does not speak to the power levels of the magic welder nor does the wiccan religion-“ Shitty lectured until Holster smacked him in the head with a pillow.

“Yeah, we get it Shits, but seriously, do we need a group of seven power welders or what?’ Ransom asked while typing into a spreadsheet.

“Well, ya’ll can do what ya what but I’m gonna get my herb planter from the reading room,” Bitty said. He bounced up the stairs calling back, “And we need nine probably, for the correct circle.”

Holster sighed, “Do we even know nine people who can make a circle?”

“It should be three from the past, three from the future, and three currently in his life to make a correction to a time spell, right?” Ransom asked.

“Well, we could fudge the future bit by guessing at Jack’s career, we have a pretty good chance with him of being part of the NHL, right?” Lardo asked.

“How do you guys even know this?” Jack asked. ‘I don’t remember anyone talking about magic or anything before,” Jack thought. ‘Shitty was a practising Wiccan when we met but Bittle is a supposedly a Southern Baptist, isn’t he? Neither Ransom or Holster ever go to church or pray and Lardo certainly never had any type of conversation like that with me.’

Lardo rolled her eyes at Ransom and Holster. The pair looked delighted.

“Magical Stuff with Ransom and Holster!” they cheered.

“So, some basic magical knowledge is taught to children like in fairy tales and fables but specific knowledge of curses or blessings is more specialized. Often it is taught in regional schools or summer camps. Some magic is taught in familial lines, like with Bitty’s kitchen magic that keeps us all healthy and more or less happy.” Holster pulled out a whiteboard with a ven diagram and pointer.

Jack caught sight of Bittle blushing again. Jack carefully didn’t think about where that blush went under Bitty’s clothes or how his abs looked. Very carefully did not think about Bittle without a shirt blushing. Luckily Ransom quickly picked up the narrative.

“Mood alteration is more of an art and Lardo uses her works to get the point across. Shitty has a good bit of book knowledge but is pretty crap at practical application.” Ransom held up the latest painting Lardo had made.

“Jack only has what would be termed “ice magic” he can skate like the very devil but nothing else about him is at all magical.” Holster doodled a diagram that looked a little like a hockey player.

“I’m not magical!” Jack interrupted. He was sure he would have known about a magical heritage. Especially after his overdose when his parents suddenly went into oversharing mode to keep him safe.

“Correction! You are not a magic welder! Which is why you cannot fix your time warp but can be effected and feed the spell you are currently under!” Ransom proclaimed drawing some lines around the hockey player in little spirals.

“Okay, enough of that guys, seriously,” Shitty said waving at the guys.

“Awwwwww,” Holster and Ransom said as they put away their diagrams.

“Okay,” Lardo said from the floor, “so we need nine welders to fix this, we have three of us who can actively weld, and are powerful enough for a circle.”

“Did you count me?” Asked Bittle as he walked down the stairs balancing two planters.

“No,” Lardo asked, “Can you hold a position in the circle?”

“If Mawmaw is right, I have to hold a cardinal direction, and her predictions about family are almost always spot on,” Bittle said. He shrugged and exited towards the kitchen.

“Wait, what prediction?” Jack asked. ‘Bittle holding a cardinal direction sounds important and serious and this is too much. He shouldn’t be worried about me like that! I’m not important to him, even if I like him. He’s safe from the fuckery that is my life.’ Lardo shrugged and Shitty shook his head.

“No can do, man,” Holster said, “Bittle family predictions are not shared outside the family.”

“Yeah, their family rules are wild,” Ransom said. “I interviewed Bitty’s cousin for a project and she has all sorts of weird rules about when she can leave the house and who she can speak to just about her shopping list let alone the future parts.”

“Well, nothing can get solved today. I think I am going to shower and call my parents and then go to bed.” Jack said. As he slowly got up from the chair moving carefully to not strain his aching body. ‘I wish there was a way to deal with the fact that not only has magic been happening to and around me. Drinking is seriously not worth it and nothing else will take this edge off. Fuck my life and these stupid old man knees too,’ Jack thought.

“Goodnight you beaut of man!” Shitty yelled. Jack waved at him as he moved towards the stairs.

“Wait!” Bittle called as he passed the kitchen door. Jack paused in his determined shuffle. “You are going to need a hand to get up the stairs.” Bittle carefully walked towards Jack his face pained.

“Bitty, I really don’t need the help, I can get up the stairs by myself,” Jack said while he blushed.

“Jack, you won’t be able to make it past the landing, please let me help you,” Bitty blushed as he brushed his hand across Jack’s back to grasp him like he was steadying him after a kegster.

“B-bitty, please, I d-don’t-,” Jack mumbled blushing as he felt Bitty’s arm warm against his back. Suddenly Jack lost his footing on the landing, but Bitty pushed him onto the step. Bitty smiled up at Jack, as Jack rocked onto his feet.

“Jack, you need our help, please accept it, I know the magic bits are weird but Shitty and I love you and we are going to get you fixed. Please, please, trust us.” Bitty begged Jack as he carefully helped him up the rest of the steps. Jack tried to focus on Bitty’s plea as he slowly shuffled with Bitty’s assistance to his room. Bitty grabbed a flyer off the door before opening it for Jack. Jack turned before heading into his room.

“Bitty, what was that?” Jack asked.

“Us, helping you, Jack. You didn’t need to ask, we went looking for you that first night you didn’t come home,” Bitty said. “Goodnight.”

Jack stared after Bitty, wondering why he felt so warm and safe after finding out that magic was his enemy. Jack looked down at the flyer which was a milk carton with picture of him with his “hockey face” on, the text read: “Have you seen our Captain?” Jack smiled down at it.

\---

Jack woke up in his bed in the Haus. For a moment, he thought that everything he remembered was a dream. Until he sunlight in his window gave him the same headache he had every day that week. ‘At least it’s Saturday so unless the gods are cruel, I can lay here and be safe and warm for a few hours before the chaos that is our hockey team descends on me like Baba Yaga,’ he thought. Immediately followed by a muffled boom from downstairs. Jack groaned into his pillow cursed under his breath in French at his Haus-mates. He levered himself out of bed slowly his aches still prominent from the days sleeping at the library immediately after his accident.

A quiet knock on his door to the hall had him calling out, “You may as well come in now.”

“I- didn’t want to be a bother at all, but I figured you could use a bit of a wakeup call since you haven’t been at your best recently and- oh!” Bittle swept in with a tray of breakfast and quickly set it on Jack’s desk before turning to see him in his boxers still perched on the edge of the bed. Bittle blushed but offered him a hand to help lever himself out of the cramped bed.

“Too much for you, Bittle?” Jack chirped him and cheered internally as his voice stayed level.

“Oh, too something for me, alright, I wasn’t expecting you altogether in your er, altogether,” Bittle gamely responded still blushing.

‘He is just so cute. I bet he has no idea how sweet he is,’ Jack thought as he grinned at Bittle. “This isn’t the full package but if you want the preview you can wait until I get out of the shower,” Jack casually winked at Bittle. ‘Why are you flirting with him! Stop winking you idiot! He is not attached to you! And NOW he never will be either since you look like his Dad.’ Jack tried to stop the panic rising as his mind raced with recriminations.

“Oh! Oh, you! Uh, ha!” Bittle choked out a laugh. Bittle had turned redder and more flustered if possible since Jack started flirting. ‘Oh, no!’ Jack thought, ‘He is uncomfortable because of how I look at 60! Stupid, idiot! You do not want to lose him as a friend stop making him uncomfortable! Escape into the shower! At least he will not follow you!’

“Uh,” Jack stammered “I was going to take a quick shower so if you could, uh, please?”

“Uh, oh! Oh!” Bittle said and quickly walked out, “Just call if you need anything Shitty is in the next room. Well, of course he is that’s his room, but uh, you know what I mean! Anyway!”

“Bittle?” Jack stopped him with the question. “Thank you for-for everything. Er, so far.”

“Oh, Jack,” Bittle turned at the door, “Honey, I would do anything for you.” Bittle suddenly seemed to realize what he said and turned to make his escape. Managing to not trip until he was out of the room if the quiet thump was anything to go by. Jack chuckled to himself.

‘Bitty is the cutest guy I have ever met and whoever dates him better be worthy of him. If not I will kick their asses so hard their great grand kids will feel it. Seriously no one deserves his smiles and the cute little pies he makes as “test subjects”. Even if it is just magic being back in the Haus with him has made me feel so much better.’ Jack thought as he turned on the shower and held out a hand until the water was not zero centigrade. Jack suddenly wondered something new, ‘I wonder if Bittle has kissed someone or made out with someone. Oh! It better not be Chad or one of the LAX bros who has led him into temptation! He is so much better than them! I hope no boy has tried to blow him in the back of a car only to brake his heart the next day. I’d- I’d kill them. Seriously even those high schoolers from Georgia. Ugh, stop it, stop it! You are not his boyfriend stop trying to mark him or protect him! He does not need you!’ Jack leaned his forehead on the wall to try and overcome the racing thoughts. He slowly knocked his head on the wall feeling the cool of the tile and the echo in the skull.

“HEY BUDDY!” Shitty busted into the bathroom. “I heard a thump, you good? Haven’t fallen or anything?”

“Shitty!” Jack groaned.

“Alright! Just on Gentleman Jack duty this morning!” Shitty explained and he moved around the bathroom clearly moving the towel Jack has left out closer and reorganizing the sequence of items on the sink.

“I thought Bittle was doing it, since he brought me breakfast?” Jack wondered.

“OH! He did, did he? Our favorite baker finally making his move?” Shitty enthused.

“Shitty, Bittle is not finally making his move! He would not make a move, or use one of his moves on me! Have you seen what three decades did for my ass? Let me tell you, epic is now only a word you can use if you pair it with fail. Seriously, Shitty, he doesn’t like me. He’s way out of my league,” Jack explained. Jack wondered if he was the only sane person on the team some days.

“Whatever you want to believe Jack but at least two Bittle family members are currently enroute to this Haus to get you fixed,” Shitty explained. “And I get you don’t know anything about the Bittle family. But getting a triumvirate of them on a spell is a bfd. Annnnd from what Bitty said last night, they are probably coming to be part of your ‘future’ as in future in-laws. Hockey dynasty be damned! You are going to marry into one of the most powerful witch lines in North America! They supposedly cursed the Kennedys and they are the only family the Garcias treat with at the inter-“ Shitty stopped because Jack’s head was thumping against the tiles again.

‘What the hell? I can’t MARRY him! He’s not gay! He HATES me. Okay, think slowly. Stop panicking! Stop Panicking! STOP PANICKING!’ Jack’s thoughts were interrupted by Shitty catching his head as he tried to bang it again.

“Jack! Jack-o! Stop, you’re bleeding! You need to stop, please. Please focus okay? Breathe for me. Think of three things you can hear, okay? Nice and slow,” Shitty desperately tried to get Jack to focus. Jack could feel Shitty’s hands on his arms, he could feel the water on his back, and he could feel the tub beneath his feet. ‘Bitty is bringing his clan to meet me,’ Jack thought. Suddenly Jack could only feel the spin of emotions making him dizzy and the floor was rising to meet him.

\---

Jack slowly woke up in his bed. ‘Did I dream all that?’ He wondered. He was alone in his room and his hair felt damp. ‘I guess it wasn’t all a dream. Wonder if I can get a sandwich from the kitchen?’ Jack wondered idly. Jack slowly pushed himself out of bed and walked over to the clothes drawers and pulled out some jeans and a tee-shirt. ‘Luckily, I still fit my clothes, mostly,’ Jack thought. ‘The clothes are a bit looser as if I lost some mass but not so loose that my body has changed shape with age. I suppose that I should feel lucky about this preview of old age but really without any of the years lived in between now and then it doesn’t matter what my body will be like. It’s a cheat. My life, my scars, and the broken dreams written like a map on my skin aren’t there. It was like I completely skipped living and now get to die.’

Jack opened the door to his room and moved into the hallway. He heard voices downstairs. ‘Who would be being subdued in our kitchen? Bittle always has a cheerful song on and a pie in the oven. No one whispers down there, we’re house of goddamn college guys, shouting is 90 percent of our communication.’ Jack slowly moved down the stairs. Jack felt a warm burn on his back from where Bittle had held him the night before. Jack thought so hard about wanting this feeling to be permanent he almost didn’t notice the bottom step.

“Jack,” Bittle said. “If you wanted to get up I would have come and gotten you.” Bittle was watching him with a twisted look. As if he had more thoughts than he had words and wasn’t sure if any of them would be welcome. “I found the book that did this to you in your backpack. I know I shouldn’t have gone into it but I thought it was important. Any- anyway!” Bittle perked up as he helped Jack down the last few steps. “We figured it out, how to -to reverse it. Well, Mama figured it out. Moomaw kept telling me that if we couldn’t reverse it she’d marry you herself!” Bittle harrumphed “I tried to tell her that you weren’t the marrying kind but she, well, you’ll meet her in a second. She always says that the only reason the Titanic went down was because they wouldn’t give her passage on it. It’s not the way it happened but still.” Bittle rambled on with his story as they walked into the kitchen. The room illuminated by the warm sunlight and warmed by the people in it.

“Jack! It is so nice to meet you! I have been after Eric to bring his young man to see me,” a woman with silver hair in wrapped into curls on her head said. “He knows that every family member needs to bring their potential mates to meet me! I have to use the cards on them or read their palm.” The woman was sitting comfortably in the warmest sunbeam wearing a chocolate sweater looking as though she was made of wire and soft skin. 

“Mama!” a woman with blonde hair chopped into one of those bobs that all middle-aged women seemed to default to. ‘Must be Bittle’s mom. Bittle said she was a blonde when he asked me to come down for American Independence Day. Guess he wanted to do this in July,’ he supposed.

“I’m so sorry, Jack, she thinks that she can use the fact that she is old and Southern to get away with things they would never allow in polite society,” Bittle’s mom excused.

“Suzanne Marie! Don’t go telling family secrets until we get the boys hitched! Time enough in the world for all-a that,” MooMaw chided.

“Uh,” Jack wondered if he should have stayed in bed as he slid into a chair at the table.

“Both of ya’ll are putting him in a dither now can the two of you please just get to the bit where we save his pretty face?” Bitty demanded.

“Well, now, if you want to be all business about it then we can go through the whole thing or we can wait until the whole group is here,” MooMaw said.

“Uh, whole group?” Jack asked.

“Sweetheart, we needed nine members to make the circle to get you back,” Eric started saying.

“I am back! I’m right here!” Jack interrupted.

“Dicky! You want your man to be pretty, just say it! He’s not dead yet, ya know!” MooMaw exclaimed in support. Bittle turned bright red and started muttering about noisy biddies.

“Dicky, have you asked him out yet?” Bittle’s mom asked. Bittle shook his head and looked down at his feet.

“It wasn’t really a good time? What with midterms and all?” Bittle said. Jack was really really unsure what the three of them were talking about.

“Baby, you need to tell him BEFORE the ritual,” Mama Bittle declared. Bittle looked a little overwhelmed.

“No, Mama, he’s, he’s not, he’s straight?” Bittle said eyes darting between Jack and Bittle’s Mama and his MooMaw. ‘Does Bittle need to talk to Shitty about something specific?’ Jack ideally wondered as Bittle spluttered. ‘If these three are going to be at the ritual who else is coming? I don’t think Papa or Maman have enough magic to direct a ritual.’

“Ha ha ha, whoo boy, Dicky! Take Jack out to the porch and explain things to him a bit, okay?” MooMaw suddenly laughed. Bittle looked at her and then at Jack and Bittle’s eyes got very wide.

“Yeah, I guess it needs to be said,” Bittle agreed. He walked over and offered his arm to Jack like they were going to promenade down the waterfront. Jack laid his hand on Bitty’s arm and pushed slowly to his feet, knees complaining all the while. They shuffled outside onto the porch where Bitty lowered him into a rocking chair. ‘When did we get a damn rocking chair?’ Jack wondered.

Bittle coughed and leaned against the railing that was probably less steady than just standing would be. “Jack, I need to tell you something about me and my family. When I went to graduate high school I had MooMaw read the leaves for me. I had other schools offering me more money or with programs that made more sense for me or just with better magic connections. I came to Samwell because my life partner was supposed to meet me here. Now, these things going the way they do, I wasn’t sure if I’d just sit next to them in a class or bump into them once in the cafeteria or what exactly our meeting would be like,” Bittle paused for a breath. He was watching Jack very closely as he continued, “Imagine my surprise when I looked across Faber at you and caught your eye. Everything in my body felt like it moved a foot over and back again. You, you were the person I had uprooted my life for, standing in front of me,” Bittle took a deep breath. “And then you dismissed me. In front of the team. Just,” Bittle looked like he might cry. “You weren’t interested. In anything to do with me! But I had this stupid prediction. I was supposed to meet you and bring you home at Winter Break and all this stuff!”

“Bittle, why would you think, about me like that, though?” Jack interrupted. “I wasn’t going to fall at your feet the first time we met.”

“I know that now, Jack,” Bittle sniffed until he managed to not breakdown. “But I was eighteen! I thought this was my grand romance! I had my family telling me I needed to bring my soulmate home to meet them! I had to tell my mom at Thanksgiving that I had met you and you barely spoke to me! I had failed my family line!” Bittle was panting a bit, not quite shouting but very overwrought Jack thought.

“But you didn’t fail them, did you?” Jack asked. “After all, I love you.” Bittle turned red again and then blanched. Bitty looked like he might faint. ‘He’s so cute when he’s surprised. I want to keep surprising him.’ Jack thought.

“YOU WHAT?” Bitty yelled.

“I love you,” Jack repeated. “I wasn’t going to do anything since I don’t want you stuck with me but this changes things.”

“You silly boy!” Bitty said. He looked like he was going to throw up or faint. “My family doesn’t change anything! You get to say no. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“Bittle, Bitty, Bits, I love you. Destiny be damned. Age spell be damned! I want to stay by your side if I can, or at least take you out like you should be taken out,” Jack assured him. “I may not have fallen in love at first sight, but I like you a lot and you are the person I will miss the most next year. I can’t date you if I’m 60 but maybe if we can reverse this, I can buy you a coffee?”

“You, you goose!” Bitty started crying. “I need to tell you that my family is here instead of your Mom and Dad. They-they are go-going t-to stand as your f-family rep-representat-tatives. I-I love you, too.” Bitty sobbed. Jack reached out for Bitty who threw himself in Jack’s arms.

“It’s okay, Bitty,” Jack said and he held him against him. “Once you do your voodoo we’ll revisit this. But for now, your family is my family.” Jack felt a warm push go through him. Bitty started laughing as the tears poured down his face.

“You just got engaged to me, honey. I hope you are ready.”

The Bittles were completely overwhelming even when the ladies told him they were “going easy” on him. He had to ask to be excused barely an hour into the questioning. Bitty helped him back up the stairs and yelled for Shitty to sit with him. Jack hated being treated like an invalid.

“Honey, it’s not like that. We need to get you outta the kitchen soon anyways. You know what they say about folks stirring the soup wrong.” Bitty declared. “Besides you need your sleep. We need to do this at the dark of the moon. I think we’ll do it in the library but Mama may have an Opinion on That. Lots of little details to fix still and more planes to meet for our Participants.”

“Bitty, how come I can hear your capital letters?” Jack asked as Bitty laid him onto the bed. Bitty twisted his mouth.

“That’ll be a bit of the magic but also your perception kicking in. According to Shitty when I talk about a Work I ‘intone’. Sort of like year one actors on stage.” Bitty air quoted intone and then shrugged. “Most of it is you realizing what I’m saying. And that bit is mostly slight-of-hand stuff. Like ‘hey, listen to this other word’. Most people do it.”

Bitty straightened up and gave Shitty a Look. Shitty smiled innocently from Jack’s desk. ‘How did Shitty know what Bitty meant just with that look and how long has Shitty had pants on today?’ Jack’s line of thought was derailed by the perfectly respectable pair of jeans Shitty was wearing. Shitty was a ‘less is more’ kinda guy when it came to clothes. Shitty met Jack’s eyes.

“If you think I am letting the woman who personally cursed the Kennedys see my all together you are all together wrong,” Shitty explained. “The World and Society may be conspiring to force me to wear pants but I am not free balling in front of the Bittles!”

“Did you know I was the prophesied wife of the scion of the Bittle clan?” Jack asked.

Shitty looked impressed, “Jack, my man! Light of my life! You gonna marry Reba? She’s hard to handle but quite a firecracker in bed reportedly. If the heirs of her latest conquest are telling the truth.”

“No Shitty, Bits. He had his grandmother read the leaves?” Jack explained.

Shitty looked shaken, “You are the prophesied partner of BITTY? Our Bitty? Eric Bittle? The Eric Bittle? Jack of Hearts, Prince of the Ice, if you are Bitty’s partner we have a lot more to talk about than just getting you back to your natural age. For one thing, you know you have to take the Bittle name.”

Jack smiled at the thought of his name being Jack Bittle. Shitty pointed at him, “You glorious bastard! You already did the ritual! Congrats!”

“What ritual?” Jack asked as he laid down.

“You guys must have had some kinda conversation where the two of you made your intentions known and you accepted him and his blood kin,” Shitty said.

“I, uh, I guess we kinda did,” Jack said. “It was nice. But I think I need a nap?”

“Sure, sure, by the way we have a few other guests coming in to help if that is okay with you?” Shitty asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Jack asked as he slowly sank into a dream.

“Not all visitors are welcome, dude.” Shitty responded.

\---

Jack wasn’t sure how Shitty got clearance for this but the ice of Faber was clear and Jack sat on the bench while the Bittle women used brooms to sweep the ice and Bitty sprinkled salt and some herbs onto the ice. Shitty and Lardo were quietly arguing about the candles that they had gotten for the ritual. Ransom was running over a list with Holster. Chowder had been dispatched to pick up another person from the airport. From what Jack gathered at least one person was driving north from Providence, Rhode Island.

‘I wonder what aspects of my life have to be present at this ritual for it to work,’ Jack thought. Jack knew that Bitty was not counting himself as part of the group from Samwell but Ransom and Holster had finally admitted that without the ‘drift compatibility’ that they shared with each other neither would be able to light their own candle in the circle. MooMaw Bittle apparently muttered something rude then as the boys had then both turned red. Shitty had passed inspection by MooMaw. She muttered something about the old lines surprising her sometimes. Lardo wouldn’t say exactly how her interview with Mama Bittle went but she had then been entrusted with getting all the supplies that Bitty didn’t grow in his planters.

Jack looked into center ice again and watched Bitty set up a folding chair presumably for Jack. Mama Bittle handed over a white sheet and Bitty arranged it over the chair. Jack liked watching the set-up it was like a dance or a game. Whatever Lardo found inadequate about candles had apparently gotten resolved so Shitty was walking out onto the ice with the box for the Bittles.

Suddenly a commotion started in the tunnel. The general noise of large male athletes moving in a group. Jack wondered if he could pick out voices except for that there were more than three men he couldn’t tell who was headed onto the ice. Ransom and Holster bounded out first with clip boards in their hands. Following them was Johnson, the former Samwell goalie, who waved with a huge grin like a beauty pageant queen. Jack waved back pleased to see someone else he knew from Samwell. A fairly tall man followed him smiling fondly at the woman next him. He perked up when she pointed over to Jack and the tall man also waved like Johnson looking like Christmas had come early. He turned over his shoulder to chirp the short blonde man behind him. Jack froze as he recognized Kent Parson.

‘Why is Kenny here? How could he help? Is he MAGIC? Why wouldn’t he have told me if he had magic?’ How long has he been magic? Does this mean he knew magic when we were, whatever we were? Oh God. Did he magic me? How much did he magic me? Oh God.’ Jack couldn’t breathe. Jack couldn’t see. Jack was drowning. Jack felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe Jack. Count with me 1, 2, 3, 4. In and out. Count, come on, 1, 2, 3, 4. Think of one thing you can taste, two things you can smell, come on, nice and slow. There you are, honey,” Bitty slowly talked him down from the rising panic. Bitty smiled at him as Jack slowly gained focus.

The very tall man, the woman he was walking with, and Johnson had stopped in front of the bench. Parse had walked over to chat with MooMaw and Mama Bittle.

Johnson opened his arms wide in a parody of an invitation for a hug, “Hi boys! Let me introduce two people from your future! This is Alexi Mashkovi but you can call him Tater and this is Georgia Mason who you can call George. It’s a bit of a spoiler for them to be here but not much. By the way Jack, you have to sign with the Falconers now, sorry about that.” Johnson didn’t look even a little contrite. He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops of his jeans and rocked a back with a shit eating grin.

Georgia held out her hand to Jack who took it tentatively. “Good working with you, Jack. I mean, I look forward to working with you. Sorry, this bit is a little confusing,” Georgia said wryly. “Also, that sometime in the future I will mean enough to be a pillar for you is,” she paused, “a little intimidating.”

“Is no problem, just means he must win the Cup with us, yes?” Alexi boomed. His Russian accent just made his good-natured chirping sound even more cheerful. “Johnson is weird! But he is a goalie! They all know things they should not! And magic ones are worse! At least we don’t play him much!”

“Jack is glad to meet you, Tater! Thank you, Johnson and Ms. Mason, for coming out for our little ritual,” Bitty beamed back at them.

“I can talk for myself,” Jack said quietly. “Thank you, Johnson, for bringing them. When did you know?”

“Monday. But I need to help Mrs. Bittle you guys keep chatting,” Johnson said as he looked over his shoulder. He turned and walked into center ice.

“See?” Alexi proclaimed, “Goalies and Seers are always more mysterious then they need to be.” He shook his head. “Glad I don’t play on his team.”

“Thank you for coming Ms. Mason and Mr. Mashkov,” Jack said politely.

“No, no, no! You call me Tater! We will be on same line next season! No need to be shy!” Alexi said loudly. “Now I go wash for ritual and be back shortly, yes?” He smiled with his whole body before turning to get directions from Holster.

“Please feel free to call me George, Jack,” Georgia said. “Johnson told me to bring the contract and have you sign now but I told him that I trusted you enough that it could wait.”

“Especially as the photos of the signing would be a bit hard to explain,” Jack said. Georgia laughed and shook her head. She held out her hand to him and helped him onto the ice. They held onto each over and slid over the center ice. She helped Jack onto the cloth draped chair.

“Hey, Zimms,” Kent said, “I just want to tell you that I know I have some shit to say to you. Mostly apologies. But also? You were my best friend, okay? That was Real. I needed you to know that, whatever else. Pffft. You were my best friend.” Jack can’t quite look him in the eye as Kent talks. Jack stares just off his shoulder until Kent waves his hand during the “pffft”. Jack looks up at Kent as he repeats himself. “You were my Best Friend.”

“I know Kent. I have some apologies for you but, well,” Jack fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Kent waved his hand in front of his face.

“You don’t have to worry about it, Zimms, we’ll talk about it later. At least now we have time. I will always Thank Johns for that,” Kent smiled at Jack fondly. “Let’s get this taken care of, then you can kick my ass on the ice like old times.” Kent winked at him. Jack blushed and kept rubbing his shirt hem.

“That’s enough of That, Mr. Parson. You can stop flirtin’ with my man anytime now,” Bitty said with an edge to his cheerful teasing. “You should know better than to interfere with a Bittle Bride.” Kent raised his eyebrows at that nodding and slightly bowing to Bitty.

“Of course, Eric,” Kent spoke formally, “I meant no disrespect to him or to you and yours. I am humbled that you would allow me to Make the Circle with you and your Matriarchs. Please accept my congratulations on your engagement.” Kent bowed to both of the Bittle women. “Congratulations to your family on the addition.” MooMaw chuckled.

“What pretty manners you can put on! I knew that your reputation as a Heartbreaker was well deserved. Too bad for you that the Bittle women are immune. Don’t go playing that game with anyone in our Circle and you’ll do fine. Powerful and cute just the sort I like,” MooMaw laughed. She waved at the candles of the circle. “Find your place, we have you kids from the Hockey League in the West quadrant.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Kent said and inclined his head to her. He touched Georgia on the arm and they slid over to their corner of the diagram. Tater came out onto the ice and slid over to them in their area. Bitty was waving Shitty and Lardo over to their section in the circle where Johnson already had taken his position. The Bittle ladies were fussing over the placement of a line in their spot. Bitty was laughing as Shitty fell trying to run across the ice. Jack tried to breath in through his mouth and out through his nose slowly.

MooMaw clapped her hands and everyone settled down. “Now, Suzanne is going to do the count down. We all need to focus on Jack and push the power to him. Don’t overwhelm the poor boy, now. Eric’ll do the crafting but it should only take one solid push of power to burn the spell out of him.” She waved at Bitty who blushed. “Once we get this taken care of, these kind boys will have refreshments at their house.”

Ransom and Holster high fived at the edge of the ice and yelled “MagiKegister!”

“Jack?” Jack looked up at Bitty. “Honey, just close your eyes, okay? Count back from 100,” Bitty reassured him. Jack took a slow breath and closed his eyes. He slowly tuned out everyone around him as he counted backwards. He got all the way to 87 before he passed out.

\---

Jack woke up slowly feeling a pounding surrounding him. The vibrations were shaking the mattress and the window was rattling in time to the music in the living room. Jack felt stiff and tried to roll over.

“OH! Jack, you’re awake!” Bitty exclaimed from Jack’s desk. A laptop was sitting open where Bitty had clearly been typing seconds before. He was leaning backwards in the chair to watch Jack.

“Uh, yeah, I feel a little stiff?” Jack said slowly. Bitty chuckled and watched him with eyes that were a little watery. “Otherwise I don’t hurt, I guess?”

“If you feel up for it you can do kegstands with Mama and beer pong with MooMaw. She and Lardo were ahead when I came up to check on you and work on this paper,” Bitty explained.

“Eh? A paper? It’s due tomorrow, isn’t it?” Jack asked accusingly. Bitty smiled bashfully and shrugged.

“Midnight tonight actually. MooMaw let me help make the pies and then shooed me off to finish it. She said I didn’t have any more excuses now that you were back, oh! You should take a shower and go get your pies we made you!” Bitty bounced out of the chair at the thought of something that wasn’t the dreaded paper. Jack waved at him to sit down.

“It’s not like I need help to shower and it’s better to go eat pies and get beer spilled on me before I clean up anyway,” Jack explained. Bitty beamed at him.

“Sounds like a plan, holler if you need anything,” Bitty turned back to his laptop. Jack checked but he was decent in flannel pants and a tee shirt so he wandered over to the bathroom. No one was having sex in it for once so Jack did his absolutions. He went back into his room to grab a pair of jeans. Bitty barely looked at him, his had his head phones in now. Jack smiled at the back of his head and pulled on the jeans.

Jack thumped down the stairs as the music boomed around him. He grinned happily as his feet bounced off the steps and his knees caught him on each step pain free. He was glad to have his toned body back.


End file.
